ghosted everyone, might regret it.
drained. exhausted. fed up.
those were the only words you could use to describe how you felt. not that anyone asked, you were just trying to remember how therapy felt.
you were your own best friend, you had been for years. not that you'd complain much, but, you were getting tired of the same old conversations, the same old thoughts.
that was, until you heard footsteps coming from the top of the basement stairs. your eyes widened as you immediately straightened up. it was only Matt, right?
"hello?" matt's voice echoed through the almost empty basement.
once again, Matt's phone flashlight dimly lit up the basement, yet, you were too tired to say anything in response. why bother? it was obvious he didn't want you here, so why feed into his games?
"y/n?" Matt called out again, his voice softer that time. "look..i-..i'm sorry, okay? i was a bit harsh, but dude, what can you expect when someone barges in on you changing? especially someone you don't know?" he asked quietly.
you sighed, and you were pretty sure you just gave your spot away.
pretty quickly, Matt's footsteps approached under the stairs where you hid. he bent down, practically afraid to touch the grimy floor. he winced at the feeling of the pressure on his knees, but stayed anyway.
he looked at you with soft eyes. eyes that you could only assume seen as much pain as you had. it made you feel bad, but why feel bad for a dick who made you feel horrible?
you couldn't answer that question.
"talk to me." he urged quietly. "tell me how you got here. i'll listen." he reassured.
your brows furrowed. he'd listen? yeah, you called bullshit.
"how do i know you're gonna listen if you won't even bother to sit down?" you asked quietly, your voice barely even reaching his ears.
he held back a scoff, forcing himself not to roll his eyes.
"i just got out of the shower. i'm not getting dirty all over again," he muttered bitterly. "now, you gonna talk, or not?"
a/n: chat i cut it off there because idk what readers story is yet is that bad
